Monday, 16 September 2019
TIME ALWAYS WINS - BY A KNOCKOUT!
Increasingly, these days I often find myself as much dismayed and frustrated by the things I can no longer remember as I'm surprised and grateful for the things that I can. Take the 1972 KNOCKOUT Holiday Special for example. I purchased this in the newsagent's across from my old house while at school one day, not long after flitting from my former neighbourhood, and I recall taking it from my schoolbag to gaze at on my way home. (I still attended the same school after flitting, you see, which accounts for my presence in the area.)
I remember being fascinated by the striking blue and red on the cover, and also the pristine, uncreased newness of the comic. What I can't recollect is exactly how long I bought it after moving to our 'new' house - was it mere days, or perhaps a week or so? I know it couldn't have been very long because we'd moved halfway through June, and the comic couldn't have been on sale in the shop for any great period of time, otherwise I'd have noticed it sooner as I was in every day. For all I know, I could've bought it the very next day after flitting.
Another thing I no longer recall was whether I bought it during the lunch hour or after school - vague vestiges of seeming memory for both scenarios compete with one another in my mind. What's certain is that it was either one or the other, and as I'd probably have been at the shops (just up the road from the school) between 12 and 1 to get my 'dinner' (a Devon Split most likely), let's just go with the former. In fact, having typed that, I seem to remember being anxious for the afternoon to be over, so that I could get the comic home to read undamaged, which could've resulted from any overly-enthusiastic tussles with classmates.
The two replacements I now own of the comic (one acquired many years ago, the other having arrived only today) aren't in the pristine condition of their '70s predecessor, but they're both tidy enough to remind me of its shining newness, and of that walk home from school on a golden afternoon 47 years ago. A lot of water has gone under the bridge since then, but I'm glad that the simple sight of a comic's cover can return me to an earlier age when I thought I had forever.
Time has disabused me of that illusion, but I'm grateful that I can occasionally recapture that feeling again, even if it's only for a fleeting, bittersweet moment that's as soft and swift as a butterfly's sigh in the face of a hurricane. Here's to yesteryear - long may its echoes reverberate.
As a special treat, below is The HAUNTED WOOD strip from the above comic. I'll maybe show more of the contents if enough Criv-ites request it.
Posted by Kid at Monday, September 16, 2019